A Story From Home

 

Sometimes, sitting outside after dark, just watching the stars, I prayed for the little band up north, those who had been warned and had gone on to warn others. The trouble with a word-of-mouth movement is that it is limited in scope, but it also lacks the exposure of an online presence. But even word of mouth has its dangers I knew to my regret. 

************************

In the afternoons Aunt Julia used to doze in front of the TV news with Billy on her lap. I guess she liked a little background noise during a nap. One day I slipped in quietly, because I knew it was during her nap time. Something on the screen caught my eye so I stayed to watch.

It was a story from home.

There had been a horrific fire at an industrial park in Lynnwood, near the freeway. That stopped me in my tracks. I knew that place. I had been there! I had been arrested by a couple of shadowy agents, battered and brought there, and held until I walked out, by the grace of God, alive.

A couple of step vans were burnt also, and four bodies had been found in the wreckage. I wondered about the fate of the woman at the desk, Garcia and whoever else. I knew what had happened to Wiggles. Some of the wreckage appeared to be the ruins of robotic mechanisms. 

Many questions sprang into my mind. No. 1, did anyone I know have a hand in this? Or was it an accidental fire? No. 2, would they forget about me? Was this whole episode finally over? Had we won a sort of victory, or merely a reprieve?

Maybe I would never know for sure.

“Beth, isn’t Lynnwood near your home up north?” Julia woke up enough to ask me.

“Yes, Auntie, in fact, that is the very place they took me that night,” I said. She woke further and sat forward in her chair looking at the screen.

“The Creator makes mysteries girl,” she said thoughtfully. “So be it.”

I couldn’t wait to talk to Jessie about it. “I have to go tell Jessie,” I ran out of the house and back to Jessie reading in the hogan. He was studying an old book of his Uncle John’s called Practical Gold Mining. 

When I burst through the door Jessie looked up in surprise. Honda stood up from where he had been napping, wondering what the excitement was about, ready for fun.

“Jess, the place burnt down! All of it!” I sat down and described the news report in as much detail as was given. He didn’t say anything for a while, sitting with his finger in the book where he had been reading.

“Hm. Sounds like Nuevo Mundo is having a little setback. Well, I don’t think we have a lot to worry about, ourselves. Let’s just stay put Beth and see if we hear anything else at all.”

What else could we do? It was a thoughtful evening. We were all quiet during the rest of the day. It was a gruesome story, but we couldn’t help but be thankful. It felt like a reprieve but was also frightening not knowing the back story.

That evening we stayed in with Julia and talked about kitchen gardening in Arizona. It was totally different from vegetable gardening on the wet side of Washington. She said that you could grow something year-round in Arizona, that there were three seasons. There was the cool crop’s season from September to May. Then there was the warm crop’s season from February to May, and then again July through October. And there were also the hot season crops from May through October. 

You had to be careful where you planted too. Morning light was better for the garden. Of course, the garden plot here was already established.

Water was always a problem. And also, the soil needed to be built up unless you just wanted to grow native plants. Vegetables like humus and a slightly acid soil, which is not native to Arizona. I could see that this was going to take thought and more careful work than at home.

I could see us buying compost. There just wasn’t a lot to make compost out of on the dry little spot we inhabited. At home you could call for a truckload of the stuff to be delivered. Another thing to look into.

These were more pleasant things to consider than the fire in the news. We were glad to have something constructive to occupy our minds.

Part of our routine now was to take Honda out into the yard and teach him some things. To come, to sit, to stay, to be quiet, all the usual commands. He was with one of us always. We never left him shut up in the hogan or the mobile. He was growing fast and would be quite a large dog when he was about two years old. Jessie thought Honda would top out at over a hundred pounds.

He especially loved Aunt Julia. Of course, she loved him too. He liked to sit on the floor by her chair and listen to her talk. He got along fine with Billy. Billy didn’t swat him, and he didn’t bark at Billy or poke him with his big nose. I think Julia told him how to treat Billy. She had a way of taking animals into her confidence quietly. I think she talked to those hens too. I think they laid eggs just to please her.

One morning soon after that day, I found that my coffee did not agree with me. It tasted wrong somehow. Not even sugar and cream helped. Neither Julia nor Jessie noticed the same thing. I didn’t like my eggs either. Then I ran into the bathroom because I was suddenly nauseated by the eggs, the coffee, and the cooking smells. I emerged shaky and clammy.

I wondered how I had managed to get sick out here around only two other people and some animals. By evening I was fine.

Linkie to all of it; They haven't taken my phone yet.docx